His Eyes, 259 



' Leaving his daughters in tlie hospitable home of 

 Audubon, he returned to hll his pulpit at the time 

 appointed. 



To HIS Dauohter Jane : 



Charleston, Aug. 27th, '48. 



It was a delightful day to me, when your letter 

 dated the 18th, was handed to me. I have read it 

 the second time ; it is characterized by strong good 

 sense, and there is such a propriety in your thoughts 

 and expressions that I could not fail to be proud of 

 my daughter. Then I felt convinced that your eyes 

 were better — for you kept accurately to the blue 

 lines on the paper. May we soon have reason to re- 

 joice in a permanent cure of your eyes. " '•'■ 



I too, suffer, at present, from my eyes : I cannot 

 read much and scarceh' venture to write ; I suppose 

 I have taken off my spectacles a dozen times since 

 I began this letter. I may have to give up reading 

 and writinoj altoo ether, which would be to me a verv 

 great deprivation, but I am prepared to do so with- 

 out one murmur or complaint. Cbme daughter 

 Jane, let us make a bet of a qtiart of ice-cream, and 

 see wliich of us can first find a needle in a haystack. 



-)f ^ -X- * 



Well, daughter L , wliat shall 1 say to you; 



are you home-sick, child? No! everything to you 

 is yet the color of the rose. Give my love and a kiss 

 to the Audubon ladies; the old girl is a diamond, 

 the others are gold. 



Come here my granddaughters — my Lucy and 

 my dumpty Harriet, let me kiss you and tumble 

 you about. I hear that you are obedient and 

 affectionate to your grandparents and parents, and 

 that you improve in music and other studies. You 

 must learn to play, chat and read for grand-pa 



